If Pain for Peace Prepares, by Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

If Pain for Peace Prepares

If pain for peace prepares

Lo, what “Augustan” years

Our feet await!

If springs from winter rise,

Can the Anemones

Be reckoned up?

If night stands fast—then noon

To gird us for the sun,

What gaze!

When from a thousand skies

On our developed eyes

Noons blaze!

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Emily Dickinson